Casa Amigos
by uptonmama
Summary: Six kids struggle in an unkind world. Damaged, abandoned, and unloved each longing for the family they were cheated. Can they learn to lift each other up or will they tear themselves apart. Rated M for drug use, violence, and sexual content.AH/AU/CC/OOC
1. Casa Amigos Summary

**Casa Amigos (House of Friends)  
**

**Summary:** I grew up in a house that was picture perfect, from the outside of course. But even Better Homes and Gardens houses with June and Walt Cleaver aren't perfect under a microscope. No one knew what was going on in my house till it was too late. No one was there to help when it could have done any good. No one saw the signs, no one heard the screams, so no one wiped the tears, and no one saved her.

When I was ten years old my life changed forever. No longer was I a part of a family. No mom to hug and kiss me when I fell, no dad to chase the boys away, or tell me to ignore those who taunt me. Not that I ever really had one anyway. I became a ward of the State of Arizona. During the years I should have been joining choir and cheerleading I was being escorted to and from school by various strangers who worked at Casa Amigos (House of Friends) my home, or you could say my hell. Really it wasn't that bad, there were good times but it's not easy knowing you're alone. It's not easy to know when you cry in the night no one will come hold you and tell you its okay. The little kids were great, they could always make me smile, and I couldn't not love them. They, like me, had been dealt the raw hand, they had no one either; so I guess in a way, maybe I did have a family. Just not one that could help me, one that I needed to help.

But with my 18th birthday that all changed. You see at 18 you become a legal adult, and the State is no longer responsible for your care. Once again I have no one. Kicked out, here's the door, don't let it hit you in the but on the way out. Welcome to the real world.

**AN: This is an All Human (AH) Alternate Universe (AU) Cannon Couples Twilight Fan fic. I hope you enjoy it, however if you do not feel free to let me know how I could improve it. Constructive Criticism is always welcome. If you do enjoy it please let me know, I cherish your reviews. Thanks, and enjoy.**


	2. Pain

**Disclaimer: No obviously I am not Stephenie Meyer, therefore none of the characters found in the Twilight Saga belong to me.**

**Pain **( by: Jimmy Eats World)

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Isabella, Happy Birthday to you." I paste on a fake smile and stare at the flaming sticks melting and leaving puddles of solidifying wax on the cheap grocery store cake. Yah happy birthday to me, woo hoo, 18, and no where to go.

"Make a wish." my social worker, Jan, says an overly cheerful smile splitting her face in two but never making it to her eyes. As far as social workers go she really isn't that bad. She comes to visit me once a month to make sure I have everything I need. She shows up at school anytime I get in trouble. She's even made it to the house on my birthdays for the past two years. Not bad, some of the kids who've been through this house hardly ever saw their social workers. One kid went three years without a single visit. I guess I should count myself lucky. Jan even pushed for me to have a Court Appointed Special Advocate last year supposedly to help me transition into adulthood, whatever that means.

"I wish to get the hell out of here!" I reply under my breath the whole while smiling prettily for my social worker and the other kids standing around the table genuinely happy to be having a party. I can't ruin this for them, there are very few happy days in a group home. Even if I am not happy I hate to see the little kids sad. Samantha as if on cue runs over and tightly wraps herself around my knees hugging me tightly before lifting her hands up in the air for me to pick her up.

"Appy irfday." she claps leaning in to wrap her arms around my shoulders as I place her on my hip.

"Thanks, Sammy." I reply mechanically. "You want some cake?" Her little head bobs up and down sending her ebony curls bouncing as a beautiful smile lights up her face. "You have to sit in a chair to get your cake." I tell her as I set her back down on the cracked linoleum floor.

Katherine the manager of Casa Amigos, the group home I have lived at since my tenth birthday, cuts the cake into varying sized pieces. As she slices and places the cake on plates I walk around the table handing out the cake making sure the slice size matches the child's size. Such is life in a group home. No presents, no parents, no family at all, but you are never alone.

Having finished passing out plates to the seven children crowded around the large rough hewn dining room table I decide to make my escape. "Katherine," I ask quietly laying my hand on her shoulder. I've learned if I want her attention I need to touch her in some way. In a house full of eight kids ranging in age from Samantha who just turned three last month, to well me, speaking is not always a good way to get someone to notice you. Normally this works in my favour, blending into the wall paper is a skill I learned very young, but occasionally I do need to be heard. Finally she turns to look in my direction with a questioning look. "I'm going to go to my room to read for a while."

"Alright," she answers turning briefly to stop Michael from shoving the entire slice of cake into his tiny mouth. I quickly flee the room making it to the hallway entrance before I hear her calling after me again. "Oh Isabella, don't worry about your chores today, Spencer and Riley will cover for you. I'll make sure Abigail and Connie know not to bug you for the rest of the day."

I smile genuinely for the first time today. Sharing a room with Abigail and Connie has been hard. They are good kids, but I'm sure I'm not the only 18 year old who would prefer not to share a room with eight year old twins. Solitude is a precious commodity, one that I get very little of. I know Katherine wishes she could give me something special for my birthday; she doesn't realize just how special these few hours of alone time she is giving me are. "Thanks." I answer quietly hoping she hears.

Happily I turn back to the hallway and quietly slip into the room I have shared with so many other kids. I climb up to my bunk pulling my worn piecework quilt back. I slide under the quilt pulling it up over my head just like I did as a child when I was scared. I breathe deeply imagining I can still smell my mother's scent.

Birthdays are always the hardest. I realize most people view birthdays as a time for joy, a day of remembering one's life, a day of celebrating one's birth. I doubt my birth was celebrated even on the day it happened. My mom loved me, I know that. My mom always made sure I knew I was loved and wanted. She just wasn't strong enough. Her love for me couldn't protect me, it couldn't keep me safe. Just as I have done for the last eight years, I curl up on my side wrapping my arms tightly around my chest trying to keep myself from falling apart as the old wound in my chest threatens to rip open. Memories of my mom fill me taking me back to a time I wish I could forget but also pray I never will.

"_Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" I yell excitedly as I run through the house looking for my mom. My small feet catching on a bump in the carpet in the hallway. Mom placed it there after I repetitively fell over the electrical cord stretched across the entry to the table lamp beside dad's armchair. "AHHHH" I squeak out as the floor rushes up toward my face. Blood runs down my face as I begin screaming in tears._

"_Oh Bella." Mom sighs picking me up off the floor and taking me over to the sink to clean me up. She grabs a white wash cloth out of the kitchen drawer wetting it and wiping away the blood from my lower lip and the scratch on my right cheek which is swelling slightly, already showing signs of a bruise. "Here baby." Mom hands me a boo boo buddy ice pack shaped like a teddy bear to hold on my cheek while she continues cleaning my face. She gathers me into her arms cringing slightly as I wrap my legs around her waist and lean my head on her shoulder. Mom carries me into the living room and settles us on the couch grabbing the remote control and turning on the TV to my favorite cartoon. "So what had you so excited today my little love?"_

"_Oh Mommy you'll never guess! Today Mrs. Macroony told us there's going to be a play and I get to sing a song in front of everyone! All by myself Mommy! Mrs. Macroony says I sound like a little bird when I sing!" I proudly announce forgetting all about my injuries as I bounce up and down on the couch. Mom's smile lights up the room as she pulls me to her chest for a tight hug._

Mom was so beautiful, sometimes I forget how beautiful she actually was when she was happy. A tear slips down my cheek tickling as it drips off my chin onto my neck. Just the first of many today I'm sure. Reaching beneath my bed to the small folder I keep tucked away between the bunk board and my mattress I pull out the only remaining piece of my family I have. An old faded carelessly taken snap shot from the darkest day of my life. Mom's arm is carefully wrapped around my shoulders, her bruises visible even in the grainy picture. A forced smile graces her face, even when pained she was still a stunning woman. Clueless of what was coming I smile brightly for the camera. Charlie my father, in the biological sense of the word only, can be seen in the background sitting in his lawn chair surrounded by a large pile of crumpled beer cans. His face a mask of disgust as he glares toward me and my mother. Letting go of restraint I sob. Breathing becomes difficult as my sobs turn into full blown wailing. Shoving my pillow over my face I hope no one hears my cries. This pain is one I will never share, if pain is all I have left of my mother I will hold tightly to it till the day I die.

I don't know how long I've been crying but every muscle in my body screams in agony for being tensed so long. My head throbs sending fire through my nerve endings with each beat of my deadened heart. Once again I reach into my hidden folder and pull out a small zip-lock bag containing small white pills. My salvation, my escape from these painful memories. My ticket to a few peaceful hours. I've hoarded these over the months, saving what I have not needed to take for pain. As often as I hurt myself I am never at a shortage of prescription pain pills. Of course I do have to plan ahead to have them when I really need them. State law says only staff can give a minor medication and it must be kept under lock and key. I have learned over the years the trick of tucking my medication under my tongue, enabling me to save it for later. The pain of a sprained ankle or broken wrist are nothing compared to the pain my soul is in right now. Hmm Valium or Oxycodone? Both, yah this is definitely a both day. Realizing my secret stash had dwindled dangerously low a few months ago I had decided that injuring myself enough to keep my emergency rations up was not a viable option; so I had decided I needed to start having migraines. It's amazing the drugs doctors will prescribe for migraines. Much more effective than Ibuprofin 800.

Taking a deep drink from my water bottle I toss one of each type of pill in my mouth throwing my head back to swallow. Knowing my relief is only minutes away I reseal the water bottle placing it against the wall, and close the zip-lock baggy containing my medication and slide it and the picture of me and my mom back into the folder under my mattress.

I lie back down covering myself once again with my fading quilt and wait for sweet oblivion.

**Well, Let me know what you think. Please, little blue button down there, only takes a second of your time really.**


	3. Somebody Call an Ambulance

**AN: Hey guess what a miracle happened last night. Stephenie Meyer bequeathed all rights to the Twilight Saga to ME! Yah really and then I woke up. Uh hu none of this is mine. Oh and Infra red ain't mine either it belongs to Placebo.**

**Somebody Call an Ambulance**

Infra red by Placebo

_I came down to wish you an unhappy birthday_

_someone call an ambulance_

_there's going to be an accident_

_I'm coming up on infra red_

_There's no running that can hide you_

_cuz I can see in the dark._

"Isabella, Isabella, got to wake our Isabella" Abigail and Connie sing in their annoyingly high pitched off key little voices to the tune the little talking mice sing in Cinderella. I am so going to have to talk to Katherine about restricting their TV time, or at least their Disney time. Or I will kill them. A maniacal smile forms as I seriously consider doing just that. My mental status at this time is highly questionable.

"Shut. Up." I growl smashing my pillow over my head hoping to muffle the continued auditory torture. No such luck, their dog whistle squealing voices cut through my cheap polyester filled pillow easily. "Urg." I shout sitting up abruptly and throwing my pillow at the nearest curly red bed headed child. "Shut. Up!" I repeat as if they did not hear me the first time!

"Ooh, I'm telling Miss. Katherine and your going to be in so much trouble! Your not allowed to use that word!" Connie screams crying as she holds her head in her hands pretending that I hurt her with the stupid pillow.

"I'm telling Miss. Katherine that you hit Connie on the head!" Abigail adds to the now deafening screaming in the room. And to think, once I was an only child. No, I'm not letting my mind go there today. I have to get ready for school, a trip down dead end memory lane isn't going to get me through the day. The twins charge out of our room, probably off to find Katherine and happily report my "abusive behaviours". That's all I need today.

At least the noise left with them. It's never fails to amaze me how after 14 hours of, pain killer induced, unconsciousness I can have a headache. Throwing myself over the side rail of my bunk bed I land with a thud on the hard satillo tile floor, my feet collapsing out from under me. My ankle throbs mercilessly announcing yet another trip to the ER most likely. Shit. Just what I needed. Tears trail down my face caused not only by the burning throb of my ankle but the raw festering sore that I used to call a heart that I so carelessly ripped open by allowing myself to think about _them_ yesterday.

"Isabella," Katherine sighs as she walks through the door to my shared room. "You know I am going to have to write this incident down in your file right. You can't keep yelling at the girls, and hitting them, even with a pillow, is highly inappropriate." Finally she looks around the room trying to find me. She gasps seeing me curled up on the floor looking pretty pathetic clutching my right leg with my red face puffy and tear streaked. Yah, I must be a sight to behold. "Oh my God, what happened? Are you alright?" Her tone instantly changing to one more sympathetic and less authoritative . I've never really been able to look at Katherine as an authority figure considering she is only six years older than myself.

"Oh the twins didn't tell you they threw me off my bed?" I reply causticly watching her face turn to a look of utter horror. I try keeping my face straight but I can't stop the sarcastic smirk fighting for dominance. "God, I'm kidding." I sigh, she is so gullible. "I tried to jump off the side of my bed and my feet didn't want to cooperate." I explain reluctantly. The last time I accidently hurt myself she about freaked on me. I thought she was going to pass out at the sight of the puddle of blood on the kitchen counter. Of course I did get out of kitchen duty permanently for that one, her fear of me ever touching another sharp object has greatly reduced the time I spend doing chores.

"Can you walk on it?" She asks concern deeply creasing her brow making her look years older than she is.

"You know, your going to wrinkle prematurely if you keep scowling like that." I answer trying to break the tension. I don't mean to be such a bitch to her, but sometimes it just comes out. Then of course I feel like crap, I think that's what the last genius shrink they had me going to called Reactive Attachment Disorder, or RAD for short. God if I were only born twenty years earlier that would have been really "cool". Her face morphs into an expression of anger for the briefest of seconds before she visibly puts on her 'I'm in control here' face.

"Yah, I think I can walk." I reach over taking her hand to pull myself up putting the lightest amount of pressure possible on my foot. "AHH fuck!" I yell at the top of my lungs grasping desperately to her shoulders to keep from falling as fire shoots up my leg. The pain is unbelievably intense. "God! That hurts!"

Katherine sits me down on Abigail's bed lifting my legs making me lie down with my foot elevated on two nasty slobber stained pillows. "I'm calling the ambulance. Don't even think about moving."

Yah, like I could. Oh man, the faint smell of urine makes my stomach nauseous. Fury flows freely in my veins as I realize my butt is no longer dry. Damn it, Abigail wet the bed again, and guess who's sitting in it. Today is definitely not my day. The fire in my leg is still unceasing in its ferocity but I will not sit here in a puddle of someone else's urine! Pushing myself up I swing my legs off the bed. The pain shooting through my lower body is so intense it nearly makes me black out. Stars cloud my vision as the flames lick my body all the way to my lower spine. Ahh shit, this hurts. I try to gently easy myself to the floor and scooch over to my dresser pulling my injured leg behind me. Several pairs of boys boxers are folded neatly on the left side of my bottom drawer with a stack of wife beaters on the other side. I grab a clean pair of shorts and a fresh shirt. Pulling my shirt off I pray none of the boys choose right now to walk down the hall seeing as how the door is standing wide open and I'm sitting here topless in all my glory. I quickly pull the new shirt over my head tossing the nasty wet one back on Abigail's bed, she can wash it, after all it is her pee. I know I won't be able to change my shorts on my own but maybe a nurse at the hospital will help me.

"Isabella! What are you doing on the floor! I told you not to move!" Katherine scolds loudly causing my head to throb in time with my leg.

"Abigail peed her bed again. You," I pause giving her the death stare. "Sat me in it." Between my embarrassment, my headache, and my ankle I really don't feel much like being nice right now.

"Ooh, yuck. I'm sorry, I didn't think about that." She replies her voice softening a bit and her face expressing her apologies. "I called Jan and your CASA, they are going to meet you at the hospital. They had wanted to meet with you sometime today anyway."

"Great." I reply trying to hide my sarcasm. "Hey, I'm sorry. None of this is your fault. I'm just pissed." I finish quietly.

"Don't worry about it. Your hurt, of course your going to be in a bad mood." She answers, "Hey look at the bright side, you get to miss that Calculus test you were so worried about."

"Yup, there's always that!" I laugh genuinely happy to think about the short reprieve this mornings injury is buying me. Calculus is hell, really and truly created the devil himself, and taught by his evil minions.

Wailing sirens stop in front of the house and Katherine gets up off the floor to go open the door for the paramedics and escort them to my room. Two men enter my room with a gurney between them. Oh yes, my day just started looking a little better. Firefighter A leans down to introduce himself.

"Hi, my name's Embry and this," waving his arm toward his partner, "Is Jake. So tell us what happened." Oh I would definitely play doctor with these two.

"I fell." I answer smiling sweetly up at the two really good looking men standing over me looking down at me like I were a damsel in distress. Embry's dark eyes twinkle as a small smile forms on his lips.

"Really? Well let's get you up on the gurney so we can take a look at you." He replies. His strong arms glide under my bent knees and wrap around my back, his well defined muscles flexing under my weight as he easily picks me up and sets me on the gurney. "We need to check your stats real quick then we'll be on our way."

The man he had introduced as Jacob looks down upon me smiling brightly as he places a blood pressure cuff on my arm. "It's just going to hug your arm a little. Try to stay as still as you can." How I manage to keep a straight face I don't know. The thought of this gorgeous man repeating verbatim what countless haggard over worked and cranky nurses have told me my entire life strikes me as absurdly amusing. To my great relief once my vitals were duly recorded Jake reached below the gurney bringing the back up to a sitting position before signaling for Embry to lead the way out to the "bus". The team loads me gurney and all easily into the back of the ambulance. Jake climbs up beside me fastening a single seat belt over my abdomen and rechecking the brakes on the gurney before shutting the entry doors as Embry starts the engine, thankfully leaving the blaring siren off.

"So Isabella, how did you really do this to yourself?" Jake asks in a voice resembling the deep resonating sound boulders make when breaking free from their mountainous perch. MMM I could listen to that voice all day.

"Really, I told the truth. I fell. Not much to it, I manage a ride to the ER about every other month. It's a gift really. Not many people are as talented as I am in the art of self inflicted injury." I reply lightly.

Jake's laughter reverberates from the metal sides of the ambulance. He simply shakes his head giving me occasional amused glances. The remainder of our ride is disappointingly quiet and quickly comes to an end. No more is said as I am unceremoniously wheeled through the ER to my room. I wave to a few nurses I recognize from my frequent visits.

"Back so soon Isabella? I thought we wouldn't see you for at least another week." Alison says waving as we pass.

"You are a regular here aren't you?" Jake teases after I've waved to the discharge nurse.

"Told ya." I reply. "Honestly though, I only come for the food." His face contorts in disgust as he teasingly lays his hot hand against my forehead as if to check for fever. "Really you should try it sometime. You'll never taste anything like it anywhere else."

"I'll take your word on it. I like my stomach lining just the way it is." He says between suppressed laughs as he lifts me easily from the portable gurney to the hospital bed, setting me down gently. He covers my legs with a white blanket folded at the foot of the bed tucking me in as if I were a small child. "Take care of yourself kid." He says seriously as he backs the gurney out the door and disappears down the hall leaving me alone in the indescribably depressing white hospital room. Nothing could be worse than this silence, watching the worker bee hospital staff fluttering around outside my door carefully avoiding looking toward the open door for fear of making eye contact and possibly being flagged down, well maybe one thing could be worse.

"Oh Isabella!" A continually congested nasally voice exclaims from my doorway. Speak of the father of sin himself, here she is. Jessica Court Appointed Special Advocate from hell. I swear this goody two-shoes wanna be candy striper soccer mom is a blight on the structure of family law, and those who are bound by the statutes of such law. Namely me. She's been a thorn in my side since she was appointed my case. "What did you do to yourself this time!"

"I. Fell." I answer simply tuning out the endless prattel this simple statement has unleashed. I stare at her wondering if she is related in some strange way to the woman who does the voice for the teacher from the old Peanuts cartoon movies. 'wah wah wah wah wah'. Leaning my head to the side and crossing my eyes just slightly I can kind of see a resemblance. They could be sisters.

"Oh good I see Jessica is already here." A much more lets get down to business voice states. Ah thank god Jan is here, she's the only person who can get Jessica to ever shut up! "Have they taken you to radiology yet?"

"NOPE" I answer popping the p with an exaggerated smile. "No one's been in here, except for the really hot paramedics. I think they were Native American, very nice." I reply with exaggerated enthusiasm smiling slyly, lowering my brow, and nodding my head approvingly knowing Jan gets flustered easily with any topic even slightly related to sex. Oh yes there it is, the tell tale blush, I've crossed the line, next comes the stuttering.

"Wwwell, that's nnice." She answers taking a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. "Ahem, Jessica, would you mind going and finding a doctor. If you can't find anyone tell Alison at the discharge desk that Isabella is still waiting to be seen." Jessica happily runs off do as she's told just like a good little volunteer should. I half expect her to lean into Jan to get her head pet on the way out the door. Pathetic.

"Well, that should buy us ten minutes of peace." Jan says sounding relieved. "Now why did I think you needed a CASA again? No, don't answer that." She interjects quickly stopping my smart elek reply before I could even open my mouth, she knows me too well. "I have something important to speak to you about. Without a third party." She tilts her head toward the door with a wink.

"Alright, shoot. I'm a captive audience." literally. I can't go anywhere so why not; its the perfect time for a lecture.

"You know the state of Arizona only provides care for children in the foster care system till the age of 18. As far as the state is concerned you have one month from yesterday to find housing and move out on your own." Jan states not bothering to hide her agitation.

"But school's only been in for two weeks. I still have a full year before I graduate." I ask shocked; I guess I had always assumed I would be cared for till I graduated at least.

"I have some good news for you." She replies in a more confident tone, obviously having heard something she wanted to hear in my reply. Hmmm might it have been the desperate unstated pleading for help. Nothing boosts the ego like a good serving of begging. "I've found a small program for kids coming out of the foster care system nation wide who, because of extenuating circumstances are not able to be self supportive at this time. I think it will be a good fit for you."

"So what's the catch?" I ask knowing nothing is as simple as it seems, especially when dealing with government programs.

"No catch. Like I said this is a small program, privately funded and operated. I've chatted with the program managers about your case; they seem to think you would be a good fit. You will of course have to keep your grades up, help around the house, and be involved with the community. They expect each participant to donate at least one hour to community service per week." Jan explains.

"So what, is this like another group home?" I ask. It doesn't sound so bad, better than trying to support myself and go to school at the same time.

"It's more like a managed independent living situation. You would live with three other girls in an apartment of your own. You would be supervised by the managers of the program on a daily to weekly basis as needed, but you would be living on your own." Jan answers hope written clearly in her eyes.

She knows my answer already. "So where do I sign up?"

A broad smile lights her face making her look much younger. "Right here. I was hoping you would agree. They said the could only hold the spot for you for three days. I'll get this faxed off today."

She hands me a small stack of paperwork to read and sign. Wait a minute. "It's in Washington?" I almost scream. Her face falls slightly at my outburst.

"You don't want to move?" She asks sounding resigned and disappointed.

"No no, I'm just surprised is all. I just thought I would be staying in Phoenix." I answer quickly trying to reassure her. "When do I leave?"

"Well we need to set up a school transfer, and get your file sent over to Dr. Cullen in Washington. I would guess no later than next Tuesday. How does that sound to you?"

"Great!" Good bye Arizona! Adios! I never thought the idea of leaving my past behind would sound so appealing. Only six days to freedom!

**AN: This story is not meant to be an expose on the flaws of the foster care system. If you are a Court Appointed Special Advocate or a Social Worker for children in the system I applaud you! I owe much to "The System" so please no offense is meant. This is simply a work of fiction.**

**As always, please review let me know what you like, or what I can improve upon. Sneak peaks for those who throw me a quarter.**


	4. Stand in the Rain

**AN: Sorry, I disapeared. We have not had any internet access for two weeks! I was lost in the real world for far too long!  
**

**Disclaimer: These characters belong to the wonderful Stephenie Meyer who dreamed them up, I only turned them human and am enjoying playing with them. **

**Stand in the Rain by Superchick**

She never slows down

she doesn't know why

but she knows that when she's all alone it feels like its all coming down

she won't turn around the shadows are long,

and she fears if she cries that first tear the tears will not stop raining down.

stand in the rain stand your ground

stand up when its all crashing down

stand through the pain you won't drown

and one day what's lost can be found,

you stand in the rain.

she wont make a sound alone in this fight with herself

and the fears whispering if she stands she'll fall down

she wants to be found

the only way out is through everything she's running from,

wants to give up and lie down.

This past week has been surprisingly uneventful. I thought getting everything together for the move to Washington would be more difficult that it has turned out to be. I had hoped to be able to take a few days off of school to get everything packed up and spend a couple of days just saying goodbye to the city I have called home my entire life, but no, Katherine drove me to school every single day. The last couple of days of school were stressed, the teachers all knew why I was moving and I received numerous unanswerable questions about the program I have been enrolled in. I did not think moving to a new program was such a big deal, and had not thought about asking all the questions now raging in my mind. Most disturbingly of all I had failed to ask how long I would be living there. I had narrowly warded off a panic attack in fifth hour chemistry when the teacher asked me that very question. Seeing that I was having trouble breathing and the shaking of my hands, he had sent me to the nurse. As soon as I was able to explain to her what had caused my little break down she called Jan. Jan scheduled a phone conference for me and the directors of the program to talk about all the little details I had so thoughtlessly forgot to think about when I signed up.

Later that day I sat in Katherine's high back swivel chair with my feet resting upon her cluttered desk staring around her office at framed photos of all the children who have passed through this house since she has worked here while I waited for the phone to ring. As promised at exactly four my glassy daze was disturbed by the shrill ringing of the phone. Dr. Cullen and Mrs. Cullen immediately set my mind at ease. They explained how the whole situation was going to work, and I have to admit I got pretty excited hearing that I will be living in a three bedroom townhouse with two other girls my age. I'm going to have my own bedroom! I know that's a silly thing to get excited about, but I can't help it! I could not believe it when they told me that I am only obligated to remain in the program for one year, but as long as I am going to school and doing well I am welcome to stay till I graduate college. If I choose to remain in the program while I attend college there will be financial aid, and I still don't have to pay for room and board! Oh my God are you kidding me! I never thought I would be able to go to college. Now they tell me I don't even have to pay living expenses, and I will be helped with tuition! I am definitely going to have to give Jan a nice Christmas gift this year!

All week I kept expecting to wake up suddenly and find out all this is just some great dream and in reality I'm going to be kicked out of my group home and told good luck. That wake up call never came. I still can't believe this is really happening to me; I still can't believe that with all the rotten luck I have had my entire life that suddenly something this great is really going to happen. I packed the few things in my room that actually belonged to me in two large duffel bags Jan had gotten donated for foster kids to have when they moved from home to home. They now sit half empty on my bedroom floor. I could combine everything I own into one of the large bags. I just can't make myself do it; the thought of my entire life, every piece of physical evidence, the proof of my existence fitting into one duffel bag is just too depressing.

I glance over at the digital alarm clock casting a glow over Abigail's bed. 12:25 am. There is no way I'm sleeping tonight. Thunder blasts loudly as lighting lights up the room through the cheap vertical blinds on our window. I lean over the edge of my bed opening the window to let some fresh air in the stuffy room. I inhale deeply wanting to burn the scent of the desert during a monsoon storm into my memory forever. There is no better smell than the desert soil when rain first starts soaking in. Laying on my side looking out the window I attempt to relax my body piece by piece starting with my feet and working my way up, just like some psychologist seven years ago taught me to do to manage the panic attacks that used to control me. Soon the sound and smell of the rain, the roar of the thunder, and the dancing of the lightning begin to fade into the background.

_The setting sun lights the sky with a rainbow of colors reflecting off of the high clouds making the sky appear to be filled with different flavors of cotton candy. The light catches in the slow falling rain making rainbows dance off each drop. Mom and I run hand in hand splashing in puddles lining the street, laughing and having a great time. Mom had noticed the rain as soon as it started and grabbed me by the hand pulling me outside to play without even putting my shoes on. Her face looks radiant, her joy and happiness shines through her eyes as she hops in another large puddle spraying me with the muddy mixture. A childish squeal of delight erupts from me as I dash toward her kicking as much water at her as my small feet can. "Oh you little monster!" Mom teases chasing after me. She catches me easily tickling my ribs till I fall to the ground in hysterical laughter. The muddy water splashes up covering my clothing and hair, leaving me a royal mess. Mom pulls back reaching down to help me up. As soon as I am on my feet I rush toward Mom and hug her tightly, happily sharing the mess covering my clothing with her. I pull away smiling at the four foot mud impression of me left on my moms outfit. If you look closely you can almost see a clean spot where my mouth was open in a smile when I hugged her. We walk back to the house hand in hand in the down-pouring rain. The clouds darken as the sun settles behind the mountains. My father's Phoenix PD cruiser waits in the driveway. A dark silhouette stands on the front porch arms crossed against his chest, an empty glass bottle at his feet. Mom stiffens beside me, "Honey, why don't you go over to Sally's house and see if her mom can get you cleaned up. Just tell her mommy and daddy needed to talk." She pushed gently on my shoulder urging me to go. "I love you baby." She whispered just before I crossed the street. I turn looking back once I reach the other side of the road, wanting to wave to my mom, but Dad has her by her arms dragging her angrily into the house. Tears stream down my dirty cheeks as I walk down the road in the darkening dusk toward Sally's._

My arms flail as someone grabs my shoulders tightly shaking me. "Isabella! Wake up, it's just a dream no one is going to hurt you." Katherine's soft but commanding voice breaks through my dream awakening me. My eyes flutter open frantically looking around the room for my father.

"Oh Isabella." Katherine sighs wiping tears from my cheeks, then using the sheet to wipe sweat from my brow. "Everything is okay now, he can't get you. You're safe." But everything is not okay, the emptiness in my chest argues. Mom's gone, she's never coming back. I am completely alone.

"It's five thirty hon, you need to get ready to go. Jan will be here in half an hour to take you to the airport.

"Thanks." I mumble as I carefully slip my legs over the edge of the bottom bunk bed and grab my crutches. "Can you shut the door behind you please."

I grab the grey and burgundy ASU jersey left behind a few months ago when another kid turned 18 and struck out on his own. I thought it would be appropriate to wear today, a final farewell of sorts to my hometown. I slide it over my grey ribbed tank top not bothering with a bra today; if I have to spend hours sitting in an airport and plane I might as well be comfortable. It's not like I have anyone to impress anyway. The black gypsy skirt laid out does not exactly match the jersey but really who cares. I hate skirts; I wouldn't own any if it were not for the several times in the last three years that wearing pants has been made impossible by bulky, itchy, smelly casts like the one that's on my leg right now. Oh well that's the way life goes for those who can not keep their balance when standing in an upright unsupported position. I slide my uninjured foot into a flip flop and pull myself up using my crutches, glancing around the room one more time to make sure I have not forgotten anything.

Unwelcome tears well in my eyes as a sudden intense feeling of nostalgia and sadness sweeps over me almost leaving me breathless. I'm leaving, I'm really leaving, I will never see this room again. Connie rolls over throwing her arm out over open air above the safety rail. An unfamiliar emotion overwhelms me looking at her small hand. I lean forward and place a small kiss in the center of her palm. "Take care of yourself squirt." Tears flow freely down my face as I realize I am leaving behind not only the house that has been mine for eight years but the only people who know who I am, who love me, or at least like me just because I'm me. No one here cares that I have no family, nothing to offer but myself as screwed up as I may be; they accepted me anyway. Hobbling over to Abigail I lean down sweeping her bangs off her forehead and kiss her brow. "Be good to your sister. I'm going to miss you guys."

I have to get out of here before I loose it. I breathe in deeply, sniffling and trying to stop the flow of tears as I head down the hallway silently saying goodbye to each of the children behind the closed bedroom doors. Katherine waits for me in the common room with little Samantha perched on her hip sucking her thumb and holding her pink silk blanket in the other hand, tears wetting her blotchy red face.

"Isa" she cries loudly stretching her arms toward me as I hobble toward her urging my crutches faster than I know is safe for me. I lean my weight against my crutches stabilizing myself as I reach out to hold her little body one more time. "You weaving me?" she cries burying her face in my neck, and shattering my heart into a million little pieces. Handing her back over to Katherine I place both my hands on her sweet little face and plant kisses on every available surface.

"I gotta go Sammie. I have to grow up now." I answer kissing her tears away, tasting the heartbreaking saltiness on my lips. God, I thought leaving would be easy. "I will always love you sweetie. You be a good girl for Miss Katherine." I have got to get out of here; I can't do this.

My eyes meet Katherine's over Sammy's head my eyes pleading for escape. Katherine nods her head knowingly and looks toward the open front door. "Take care of yourself Isabella; write us when you can." Sammy's screams echo behind me as I step out the front door closing the it behind myself.

The violent sob bursting from my lungs as I lean against the heavy wooden door of Casa Amigos is drowned out by an explosive peel of thunder ripping the clouds in two releasing a torrent of rain. I stand there letting the warm September monsoon flood over me, mixing with my tears. As repetitive booming thunder shakes the sky I scream again and again freeing myself of pent up emotion. But the more I scream the more pain fills the gap left behind, like water being forcefully poured down your throat leaving no room for oxygen to get through. The pain, the memories both happy and heartbreaking that swirl around fighting for dominance leave me gasping for breath, drowning in an endless sea of despair. How did I ever think I could run away, just leave this all the pain here behind me.

Two warm arms wrap around my shoulders pulling me up from the ground I never knew I was kneeling on. My lungs gasping for air as I wrap my arms unseeingly around the person holding me securely to their chest. I stand there clenching the warm body to me for dear life as I stand in the rain and cry.

"Let's get you back inside Isabella." Jan's warm voice commands lovingly as she rests her hand on my shoulder leading me back through the door I escaped through what seems like only seconds ago. Jan shuts the door behind me and unzips one of the duffel bags laying on the floor, grabbing out a new outfit. "You're a mess hon, let's get you changed."

Fifteen minutes later we are heading out the door. My tears dried, face washed, clothes changed, and completely empty inside. There are no more tears to cry, no more screams to yell, just a numbness filling me as if Novocain has been injected directly into my heart. It's time to go.

We drive to the airport in silence. Jan's occasional glances letting me know she fully expects me to loose control again any moment; her lips pressed in a tight line as we approach the departing flights entrance. Pulling up to a luggage valet she puts the car in park and pops the trunk. I sit unmoving in the front seat staring out the window watching the happy people buzzing around preparing for their flights. A mother holds the hands of two young children each of whom are dragging a miniature rolling travel case behind them. The picture of a perfect family jealousy and anger taint the scene. Closing my eyes I try to erase the image just burned into my memory. The door opens beside me and a warm hand is placed on my arm. Opening my eyes I see Jan perring in at me overly concerned . "You need to go get checked in. The porter is going to check you baggage for you." She steps back holding out my crutches to me as I grab my beat up backpack out of the back seat and carefully pull myself to a standing position hoping desperately that I keep my footing walking along the slick sidewalk toward the airport entry. As the sliding glass doors close behind me two final words break through my mental fog. "Good Luck." I refuse to look back or acknowledge I have heard her, knowing my protective fog will be burned away leaving my feelings raw and unprotected. I know I can't make it through this day like that.

Check in goes uneventfully, the desk person kindly arranges for me to be escorted through security and directly to my gate since I am on crutches. I hate the idea of being singled out and having attention lavished on me like this, but it does mean I get to bypass the twenty minutes of standing in line at the security checkpoint, and also means I get to be among the first to board the plane when it arrives letting me skip the long lines and crowded isles of the plane. A fair trade off for the staring faces that follow me as I gimp along at a painfully slow pace behind the airline employee who insists upon carrying my backpack for me. Finally we reach the departure gate and he leaves me to sit alone in the priority seating section to wait for my flight. I pull out my battered copy of Romeo and Juliet and pretend to read as my mind wanders between past, present, and questioning what is in store for me in Washington.

"Flight 1437 to Seattle Washington now boarding at gate E12" A metallic voice states drolly over the intercom. Grabbing my boarding pass and replacing my book in my backpack I pull myself to a standing position using my crutches and approach the black belt blocking the entrance to the plane. No one else has been escorted to the priority seating area so I am allowed to enter the gangway on my own. Thank goodness, if anyone were behind me trying to hurry me up I know I would have fallen on my face trying to navigate down the narrow aisle between seats.

"May I see your ticket please?" The flight attendant asks at the entry of the plane. The grey haired woman looks over my stub briefly seeing my seat number. "Your seat is toward the back of the plane on the right. Would you like any help with your bag?" She asks sweetly glancing toward my crutches and casted leg.

"Uh, no, thanks." I reply feeling the heat of embarrassment building in my face. "I can manage." Taking my ticket back I head slowly toward the back of the plane. Fortunately not many passengers are left in aisle seats from the previous flight. The seats on the right side of the plane are only two deep. Good, I will either have a row or window seat, no need to worry about being crushed between two strangers. My eyes search the numbers listed just below the overhead luggage bins as I carefully maneuver my crutches past each row of seats. 32, 33, I look up knowing the next row is mine.

"Um, excuse me." I say tapping the gorgeous boy, blocking my way, on the shoulder. He pulls his earbuds out and looks up at me grudgingly. His eyes catch mine, so green. I try to pull my gaze away from his eyes, failing miserably. It's as if a fire is lit under the deep green making them dance. I smile thinking of a faint memory of lying in the grass on my back watching the sun dance through the gently blowing, green leaves of eucalyptus trees forming a canopy over me. For the second time today I feel as if I am drowning. Inhaling becomes extremely difficult leaving me gasping for air as stars begin to cloud my vision. I feel myself wobbling slightly as my balance fails due to light headedness, my crutch slips on the slick aisle light strip as I push against it trying to regain my footing.

**AN: Hugs, kisses, and a sneak peak for those who leave reviews!**


	5. Hate Me

**Hate Me **by Blue October

I have to block out thoughts of you

so I don't loose my head

they crawl in like a cockroach

leaving babies in my bed

dropping little reals of tape

to remind me I'm alone

playing movies in my head

that make a porno feel like home

there's a burning in my pride

a nervous bleating in my brain

an ounce of peace is all I want from you

will you never call again

And will you never say that you love me

just to put it in my face

and will you never try to reach me

it is I that wanted space

Hate me today, hate me tomorrow,

hate me so you can finally see what's good for you.

I'm sober now for three whole months,

that's the one accomplishment you helped me with

**Edward **

Four days, four days till I can leave this God forsaken place. I can say goodbye to the wire webbing that runs through the windows in every room, goodbye to the heavy doors locked from the outside every evening at exactly 8:00, goodbye to the small outdated turn dial television in the 'rec room', goodbye to the newcomers shaking and screaming with the pains of withdrawal. No more nurses doing their middle of the night suicide checks, no more slop thrown on a styrofoam plate and called dinner, no more tapped phone calls, and no more weekly urine tests. Four more days to relative freedom.

The meeting with Banner this morning went more pleasantly than most. His pompous over filled face sat smiling across the badly scared metal desk obviously waiting for my joyous exultation over his news. I screwed my face into one of consternation and gave him a dead glare. It was his fat ass that got me put in this stupid rehab clinic to begin with. His phone call interrupting my "parent's" extended vacation in Europe was not well received. Hearing that their only son who they loved and adored, yah right, had been found in possession of highly illegal substances had also not been well received. He was lucky to keep his well paid position as my overseer, only his 'brilliant' idea to admit me to this ward of torture they call rehab had saved his job. Now he expects me to clap and pat him on the back for finding yet another program to pawn me off on so the parental units can feel good about themselves and what a wonderful life they are providing for their heir. He referred to it as an independent structured living facility, hmmm synonymous with half way house in my opinion. Yet another way to separate the juvenile delinquents from normal society. He tried to assure me this was not the case, but I fail to see his administrations as genuine. Either way, sharing a house with two other guys, a reasonable curfew, unlimited phone and internet privileges and real food sounds like a much better prison than the one I am in. Yet it is a prison none the less.

The large upside of this arrangement is the fact that I am still under the age of consent. Once I turn eighteen and can speak for myself the contract Banner signed with this Dr. and Mrs. Cullen will be null and void. I will be able to leave in just over two months. I will be able to choose my own path and tell Banner and my parents exactly where they can put their ingenuous concern.

I return to my room and take stock of what still needs to be done before I can leave this hell hole. Packing will take ten minutes tops, but I need to arrange for my belongings left behind at home to be sent to Washington. The only belongings I would miss are my car and music collection. Maybe I'll just drive to Washington, take a week and enjoy the scenery. After being cooped up in this suffocating building the call of the open road is strong; I can almost hear the quiet hum of my engine as I fly down the highway, answering to no one but myself for five days of ultimate freedom. Making up my mind I leave my dingy little closet of a room and head toward the pay phone in the rec room.

Lifting the grime covered receiver I cringe before placing it to my ear thinking of all the germs I am inhaling just using this thing. Quickly I type in my credit card number and dial the number for my parents summer Chateau.

I am just about to hang up when on the seventh ring my mother breathlessly answers. "Bonjour."

"Hey mom, it's me. I just met with Mr. Banner and he told me about that new place you guys set up for me in Washington. It sounds great." I say putting on my best 'Gee golly whiz I'm so excited' voice, hoping to butter her up so she'll be inclined to grant my request.

"Oh hello my dear, it's so nice to hear from you. It's been over a month since I last heard your beautiful voice." My mother replies with her typical melodramatic high society air. It's actually been three months, nice to know she's so very concerned with my progress and well being. "Your doctors tell me you are doing very well with your recovery."

"Yah, I'm good to go. You don't need to worry so much anymore." It's not like you ever really did anyway, as long as no one you knew found out about my little 'problems'. "So anyway mom, I was wondering if it would be alright if I just drove to Washington. It would be a lot cheaper than hiring a transport, and I would love the solitude. It's so loud here, some quiet time would be nice." Please, please let her say yes.

"I don't know, honey. The doctors said that the first month after leaving will be your hardest and that you need to be around people who love and care for you so you are not tempted to... well you know." She finishes lamely, still not able to say the words. "Of course we will have your car shipped to you. Is there anything else you want us to have sent to you?"

Crap. "Yah, could you have someone send out my music." Dropping the false cheeriness I allow my voice to turn caustic.

A small gasp sounds down the line. "Son you know we are only doing what we believe is best for you. We have never wanted anything less." Yah, I know and unfortunately I have never met their standard of 'best'. Which is why as they cavort around France I sit here rotting in a stinking rehab facility preparing to move to a new city half way across the country by myself to go live with complete strangers. Who as my mother so brilliantly put it will 'love and care for me' since my parents can't be bothered.

"Yah, whatever mom, talk to you later." I set the receiver back in the cradle before she could spout anymore self righteous garbage.

Returning to my room I throw myself on my bed grabbing my ipod off the floor. Turning the volume as loud as it will go I listen to the screeching guitars and throbbing bass of Yes Please by Muse. My anger grows as I listen to the cacophony of noise coming through my headset. I let my thoughts drift my emotions flowing with the current of my darkest playlist.

An orderly comes by poking his head in my room to check on me before mumbling something. He gives me a disinterested look before shutting the door behind him. Locked in again. I stare at the ceiling for hours. The first lights of dawn streak through the small dirty window above the head of my bed as my eyes close. Blackness surrounds me as the final strains of an old Iron Maiden song fade out, leaving silence in their wake.

The sun's rays have passed by my window as I open my eyes taking in my room around me. A clenching in my stomach causes me to groan. Time to get something to eat. Pushing myself out of bed I head toward the mess hall. Lunch is just finishing up. Grabbing a tray I head to the service line getting the last of the now cold slop that might in a third world nation pass as spaghetti. Without speaking or looking at anyone I make my way over to a round table in the far corner of the room, isolating myself as much as possible from the few other patients lingering over half eaten plates. If I can go three more days without speaking to anyone I'll be very happy.

I force myself to eat half of what is on my plate, knowing my stomach will be complaining of hunger all to quickly, but I can not make myself swallow another bite of this sludge. Returning to my room I select another long playlist and zone out staring at the far wall, watching a fly land and take off only to land again less than an inch away on the windowsill. The fly tries desperately to get out, unaware that the window it bangs its body against will never open. I know exactly how the fly feels. Without thinking about it I reach out smacking the fly. I wipe the smashed remains along the wall, too unmotivated to get up and wash my hand.

"Get up Mason" A gruff voice commands as a strong hand smacks my still sneakered feet off my bed.

Opening my eyes I glare at the orderly from a couple nights ago. "I'm up, now go away!" I growl waiting for him to leave before I drag myself out of bed and dress for the day. The clock on my Ipod says its 5:45. Crap, I have to be downstairs packed and ready to leave in fifteen minutes. Grabbing the duffel from under my bed I quickly throw clothes out of the dresser into the bag not bothering to fold them. Grabbing a grey long sleeved T-shirt and black jeans I dress quickly throwing my dirty clothes in on top of the clean ones in my bag. Doing a quick double take of the room to make sure I don't leave anything behind, I turn and run out the door.

A taxi stands waiting for me as I very anticlimactically walk out the front doors of the clinic. "Where to man?" The rastafarian cab driver asks as the smell of ganja overwhelms me. An itch settles in the back of my throat.

"O'Hare." I answer quickly as I roll down the rear windows hoping to dispel some of the offending yet tempting odors.

"So, do you mind if I light up? the man asks as we pull onto the highway.

"What do you think! You just picked me up from a rehab center." I growl in answer wondering how many brain cells this guy has left.

"So you want one then, fifteen, it's clean cut stuff man." He offers holding up a sloppily wrapped thin joint over his shoulder.

"What the fuck! No!" I yell. His hand retreats hiding the proffered joint back in his jacket pocket.

"Your loss man." What planet was this idiot from.

"Just get me to the airport." I demand. There better not be any drug sniffing dogs in security today or I'm screwed. I'm sure by the time I get out of this damn cab I'm going to smell like a back yard gardener.

The miles pass unbelievably slow, I twist my earbuds in place turning up my tunes trying to drown out the island rap crap the Jimmy Hendrix wanna be is blaring. Finally after what seems like hours signs for O' Hare International begin dotting the side of the road.

The lines for security are already teeming with people. Children scream trying to pull away from their frustrated mothers, who in turn scream back at them. The dissonance of the crowd screeches in my brain like fingernails on a chalk board. I stand in line trying to tune out the surrounding din for over an hour moving inch by inch toward the metal detectors and x ray machines. I slip my shoes off and wrap the cord around my ipod preparing to go through the checkpoint. The heavy set balding man in front of me wearing a cheap brown polyester sport coat and twenty dollar replicas of old fashioned wing-tip shoes argues with the security officer about the need to pull his laptop out of his bag, finally giving in to the officer's demands. I slide through after him without interruption grabbing my shoes and ipod out of the plastic bin on the conveyor belt. I walk to my gate in my socks wanting nothing more than to get away from the press of humanity.

I choose an isolated row of seats far away from the boarding entrance. Sliding my shoes back on without untying them I replace my headphones and lean back into the seat trying to escape into my music.

"Edward Mason, please report to gate 5B for a security check, Edward Mason to gate 5B." rips through the airport. Crap, of course I would have to be chosen for a random carry-on baggage check.

I laugh bitterly as I step behind the partition separating the security area from the boarding entry. A petite woman with black hair and grey bored eyes sweeps a wand over me, front and back. "Shoes off please." She orders disinterestedly. I slide off my shoes turning them upside down to show there is nothing hidden in them. She nods signaling that it is okay for me to put them back on. "Baggage." She demands. I smirk handing over my Ipod. She looks briefly at what I hold in my hand before stamping my boarding card with a green check mark. "You're clear." She states in a monotone handing me my boarding pass back.

"Group A boarding at gate 5B, for Flight 1724 Chicago O'Hare to Phoenix International with continuation to SEA TAC" I join the line of human chattel slowly coagulating past the final airport attendant and into the plane. I find my seat quickly. Fastening my seat belt I close my eyes turning up my music and mercifully fall into a deep sleep.

My head is thrown forward slightly with our rough landing waking me up from my slumber. I look around the plane to see that I had no seat partner. Thankful that I do not have to move to allow anyone out of my row I flip through my music trying to find something quiet, soothing; my nerves are wound so tightly I am giving myself a stress headache. I click on my classical list and the calming notes of Chopin fill my mind. I lean back into my seat staring at the overhead no smoking light as I wait for the passengers to exit and the new herd of people to be shepherded to their seats. I smirk lightly wondering what my rush is, it's not like I'm headed off to some great destiny.

Someone taps me repetitively on the shoulder trying to get my attention. Slowly I pull my ear buds out turning my head to the side bored and slightly aggravated that someone is interrupting my manufactured solitude.

"Um, excuse me." A soft musical voice rings out from the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. Instantly I am drawn to her piercing brown eyes. The depth of the dark pools draws me in making everything around me disappear. I pull my gaze away from hers and look at the masterpiece standing before me. She balances precariously on previously abused crutches, a dingy grey backpack slung over one shoulder. Her incongruous outfit speaks of her lack of social aspirations, hinting at an air of independence and security in who she is. Her rose petal lips rest parted slightly as she returns my stare.

I try pulling my thoughts back together preparing to offer to move over so she can take the aisle seat if she likes. She shifts her weight leaning heavily on a single crutch. Surprise and fear fill her eyes as the crutch looses its footing on the slick plastic light strip sending her flying toward the floor. Without thinking about my actions I reach out over the armrest separating her body from mine and wrap my arms around her waist as she descends. I pull her toward me hoping to halt her fall. The force of my pull on her body causes it to redirect its momentum. The slight weight of the beautiful young woman crashes into my chest. Her soft body presses into mine, her hair flies behind her settling across my face and chest seconds after her body has settled onto mine. I breathe deeply, thankful that she has not fallen to the floor, no sounds of injury come from her as she lays perfectly still in my embrace. A beautiful floral aroma fills my senses mixed with a subtle hint of strawberry, and a touch of lingering desert rain. Never before have I smelled any substance so inviting, so thrilling, so completely able to invade my mind.

She shifts slightly in my arms pressing against my arms in an attempt to free herself from my lap. Instinctively I wrap my arms around her waist more tightly.

"I'm so sorry." She whispers as her cheeks heat with a crimson blush making her heart shaped face radiate with warmth.

"No, don't be. It was entirely my pleasure." I reply kicking myself immediately for how creepy that sounds. Yah, don't worry, It was my pleasure to grope you as you innocently fell toward me. Anytime really.

A light smile blesses her lips lighting her face once again, this time in amusement. "Well it's nice to know there are still true gentlemen in this world." She teases. "Um, can I get up now please."

"So soon?" I tease in reply, "But I just got you where I want you."

"It's not very chivalrous to hold a lady captive against her wishes." She banters pulling back from me. Her eyes alight with excitement.

"I never claimed to be chivalrous, or a gentleman for that matter. Those were your words, not mine." I reply, reluctantly releasing my hold on her and helping to to stand again while I moved over to the window seat. "Why don't you take my seat, I have a feeling the less you move the safer you will be."

A middle aged flight attendant having witnessed our little moment walks toward us, an angry scowl painted on her face. She bends down to pick up the fallen crutches seeking out the young girl as she straightens up. "Are you okay dear? I can find you a new seat if you feel uncomfortable here." She offers sending me disapproving glances.

"Oh no, I think I'm perfectly happy where I am. Thank you though." The young woman answers.

"I'm Isabella, by the way. It's nice to meet you." She extends her hand in introduction as the stewardess walks away.

"Edward." I state taking her hand in mine and raising it to my lips, kissing her knuckles lightly as I drown in the endless depth of her eyes once more. She pulls her hand away giggling nervously.

"So Isabella, that's a rather old fashioned name don't you think." I ask lightly trying to cut through the unease surrounding us.

"Well, it is what it is. What would you have me go by?" She asks with a shrug of her delicate shoulders.

I think about her question for a moment looking at her perfect features carefully before answering. "Bella. Most definitely just Bella."

A charming smile lights her countenance as she stares at me her teeth biting her lower lip lightly. "Bella it is then. What about you, I don't think I've met any Edwards under sixty. Are you an Ed or Eddie?"

"Neither." I answer firmly my face showing my disapproval. "Just Edward, thanks.

"Alright, Edward." Her lips form my name like a verbal caress. "It's nice to meet you."

"Very nice indeed." I reply.

**Oh yah, Non of these characters belong to me, they all came out of the amazing mind of Stephenie Meyer and therefore are her intellectual property. Hate me is property of Blue October. I use it to represent Edward's relationship with his absentee parents (okay, so it's a little bit of a stretch) work with me. ;)  
**

**Please leave a review. If you spent the time reading what I spent the time writing what's one more minute right? Let me know what you're thinking.**


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